Metacrisis, Not Alone
by BocasAwlBeBack
Summary: The universe has a sick sense of humor. Three years of living with Rose Tyler, adjusting to the ups and downs of a "normal" human life and what it means to be the only human-time lord protector in Pete's Parallel World, John Smith discovers one night that another metacrisis isn't so impossible.
1. Chapter 1

Metacrisis, Not Alone

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.**

Chapter One

Rose Tyler wasn't picking up her phone. The apartment was mind-numbingly silent with her a thousand miles away on a mission. Rose did say he should be more social and interact more with the people in his department. At least that's what the Doctor aka John Smith, 35, kept reminding himself. Thus, here he was. At a bar on Halloween. Doing what supposedly "normal" humans do after work.

"I hung an effigy of Pete Tyler on my doorstep." Jules snickered as he slammed his drink on the wooden table and slapped John Smith on the back. John thinly smiled. He observed his other lab co-worker from the Alien Technology Department staring vacantly into his glass. Humans acted differently when they got drunk. Exhibit A: Jules Kirkpatrick, 42, the usual silent one with the sunken eyes that automatically made him look like a semi functional zombie on a regular day, now wouldn't stop blabbing one alien after after another. Exhibit B: Mark Cortez, 31, the comedian who made self-deprecating jokes about his short stature at work. He stopped making fun of the bar patrons' costumes an hour ago and now brooded into his glass of vodka.

The Doctor checked his flip phone for the thousandth time. No miss calls. No calls on voicemail.

"This is your night off, relax man." Jules rested his arm on John's shoulder, "I think she can survive one day without you." Mark continued staring into his drink.

"I'm supposed to be the expert on aliens, yeah? Why am I here?"

"The boss's just upset you blew up a couple of Gorjun ships. I mean they had it coming. No one messes with us. Three years torturing humans and the boss thinks they should go with a slap on the wrist. Heck, no." Jules scoffed and munched on an ice-cube.

"My daughter's friend was on one of those ships."" Mark looked up.

"Well, John did us a favor and he ended her suffering and countless others. More were going to come back. They're like roaches."

"Listen," both Jules and Mark glanced up at him as pointed a bony finger in their vague direction." I don't think I need any validation. From anyone. On me blowing up those Gorjun ships. Rose is out there alone-"

"She's got a Torchwood team with her, mate. Possibly trying to negotiate a peace resolution with the Mycoruv-"

"-and if it goes terribly bad, she has no one-"

"Torchwood is bloody reliable with alien invasions, if you ask me. Scaring off the alien scum of the universe, one bloody race at a time."

"Jules for pete's sake. Shut up." Mark glanced at John's subtle seething expression. His dark brown eyes, looking like bottomless black holes.

The Doctor ignored Jules."Out of how many alien invasions that occur on this world, how many leave Earth alone, hmm? How many?"

"Look, I know you think you're the Jesus of alien experts, John but…"

"What?"

"You're a genious. I get it. The whole Torchwood bloody gets it. And you're worried Rose is going to get hurt but she's been here for three bloody years without your glorified expertise. I think she can handle herself." Jules eyed a woman in a skimpy blue fuzzy tutu and a cropped top with the cookie monster's face on her chest. Mark's dour face briefly transformed into an upturned smirk. An old man in a chicken costume unsuccessfully clambered on the bar countertop. He made loud protestations in his Glaswegian accent as he got kicked out of the bar.

"Ah, Halloween. Where the freaks come out at night. Namely you two." Mark glared at the two of them, "Honestly, stop it. I'd like to spend one iota of my life, not moping about Torchwood. Yes, Torchwood tries to be the intergalactic UN and sometimes miserably fails but please I don't need to hear about it. Not now, not here until we get back into work tomorrow all right?"

"Rose is-"

"She'll be fine." Jules rolled his eyes.

"She's going to die." Mark said," Face it."

"What?" John was momentarily thrown off, "What?!"

"People... die, John."

"You're not helping, man. Keep brooding or whatever it is you're doing over there."

"She's jeopardy friendly. The last time-"

"You're just mad that you're out of the action and you're hanging out with us lab rats." Jules said.

John squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to wave away the memory of Jackie calling him that Rose had ended up in the hospital after one unsuccessful mission with the Gorjuns. Dehydration, tibia bone fracture, burnt marks...

The skinny man sighed in frustration, "She could at least tell me where she's going." He slapped his hands against the knotted table and stood up. "I'm going to try to call her."

Mark stared down at his drink and pinched his nose, "You do that." Jules shrugged and launched into a bad Weevil joke.

**This is my first submitted Doctor Who story. I'd appreciate any constructive criticisms on characterizations, etc. Thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Doctor walked outside of the bar, wrinkling his nose at the fresh smell of cigarettes that lingered in the humid air. A man in a horse mask and a woman dressed up in a sexified Cyberman costume snogged each other against the brick walls. He rolled his eyes, walked a few feet away and glanced at his cell phone. No signal. No missed calls.

"Rose, you promised you'd check in." Frustrated, the skinny man glanced through the windows outlined in orange bulbs and strolled away from the discordant Halloween music blaring from the speakers towards a 24/7 diner from across the street. The diner advertised the best coffee in London. In reality, no self respecting local would enter into Tony's Diner, much less order the vile tasting coffee. During peak hours, the diner was mainly empty except for a few elderly people and the half hidden mouse traps under the shredded booths didn't help to attract customers either.

The glass door jingled as John stepped through the cramp, dingy establishment to escape from the rowdiness of the outside Halloween crowd. Only one customer fully decked in a long blue trench coat, black converses sat hunched over at the counter eating steak and chips.. A thin black hood underneath the jacket completely obscured the face. Behind the counter, a bored waitress, early twenties, with bright red lipstick, a messed up bun and black cat ears, leaned against the wall reading an Agatha Christie novel. Her attempt at a rockabilly girl from the 50's matched the interior decoration. She glanced up at John, jumped from the wall and scurried out the back door.

"Tony, Tony! We got a customer!"

John slid into the red booth. The waitress and Tony, the cook sauntered back in. Tony lumbered into the kitchen with the distinct smell of cigarette smoke.

"Hello, I'm Nancy. I'll be your server today. What would you like to drink, sir?" She gave a flirty smile at the Doctor as she whipped out a worn out notebook and pulled out a chewed pencil out of her hair. The Doctor could just imagine Rose's customary glare at the flagrant flirtation. Now that he was half human, he was more attuned to the subtle non 51st century innuendos that humans tended to throw his way and Rose's instant dislike to such flirtations.

"Um, tea, please."

"Anything to eat?"

"No, just tea,"

The chirpy smiled diminished, "That's it? Just tea?"

"Yep, just tea."

"You look like a man who could use some fresh, hot chips. Tony makes really good chips. The best fish and chips in town, I bet you."

"Oh, really?"

"They're delicious."

John ordered the fish and chips. After she had placed the order, Nancy unsuccessfully schmoozed over to the hooded customer and sauntered over to John.

"You know, you're cute". Really, John hadn't noticed. "Maybe, I don't know after work… you and I could trick 'r treat together."

His mouth hung open. Nancy giggled and his mouth clamped up again. He shook his head, "Erm...no. Sorry, i can't… Girlfriend."

"Aww, how long?"

"What?"

"How long you been together?"

"Four, no three years." Four years if he counted the one year he'd traveled with Rose as a full time-lord but then she didn't count that, did she? He'd been dancing around her, playing with her emotions, afraid to tell her he loved her. John gazed into the plastic napkin dispenser. Rose's gleeful face came into view.

"Wow..."

Tony slid the basket of fish and chips on the small metal window between the kitchen and the bar counter. Nancy rushed to retrieve it and returned to John's table.

"She's a lucky woman," She bit her lip and chewed it a little causing some of the crimson to smear on the edge of her teeth, "So what are you waiting for?"

"W-What do you mean?"

"Three years! I mean holy cow. And the same girl-well assuming you have only one girl…because from my experience all the pretty boys either have one on the side or they're gay...You're not gay, are you?"

Um, no."

"So then what are you waiting for?" Her green eyes pointedly zeroed in on his naked fingers as they tightly clasped the white tea cup.

What was he waiting for? He told Rose he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and that he'd love her. On Bad Wolf Bay, she came running to him, enthusiastically wrapping her arms around him and kissing him with fervor. He thought it would go uphill from there, that she'd readily accept him and the two of them would go off galloping into the parallel sunset with their own TARDIS exploring parallel worlds. Oh, how naive he was. The TARDIS was taking longer to grow than expected. Rose kept signing up for international expeditions without telling him and when they did, she'd get upset that he always tried to shield her from the potential horrors.

It was one thing when Rose came home with bruises and abrasions from those missions. It was another thing to get the call that Rose was in the hospital for surgery, to rush into her hospital room and see the white tibial fracture peeking out of her leg in an unnatural angle while she wordlessly begged him to ask the nurse for more painkillers. "See this is exactly what I'm talking about Rose."

Mark confessed one night to John through the phone that he was taking Lucia off life support, Lucia Cortez, 29, bubbly personality, enthusiastic new addition to Torchwood had her head sliced open with a claw. It was the same night that Rose had barged into the bedroom, upset.

"Pete took me off the list for Poland. Why? There's an invasion of werewolves running amok and I'm stuck here in London, doing Torchwood paperwork while you...you! You're off strolling around disarming bombs…"

"Two missions in the same week. It's not healthy, Rose."

"-because swarming around, disabling bombs from depressed aliens on top of the Shard is perfectly okay. Sometimes, I think you forget you're just human."

"Half human, half time-lord, Rose."

"So what? You're going to regenerate again? Just pop up again after getting blown to bits? Don't mind me. 'I'm Mr. Infallible'."

"Actually, I think being shredded to death would stop me from regenerating."

"I'm being serious, Doctor."

"Every single day, Rose… from the time I wake up to the time I have to make myself go to sleep, I'm perfectly aware that I've only got one heart but you know... you're not the Wolverine either."

"What?"

"You're an ordinary human, Rose. Only one life, one heart-"

"There's pacemakers for that you know."

John felt a headache coming on. He rubbed the sides of his temples. "Only one brain."

"You know I used to go saving your skinny bum a hundred times and I don't remember you complainin' "

"Maybe, I've taken you for granted for far too long. I was a foolish man," He gingerly placed his black rimmed glasses on the side table and glanced once again at Rose, "Humans are like the little squirrels in a park getting crushed by an oncoming car. I just don't want to get a call from your mother, from anyone, that you're laying in bed, a vegetable, in a hospital bed, Rose. Do you hear me?"

"You may like fiddling around with alien blow dryers but I'm not sitting around on my bum doing hours of paperwork just because you're afraid I'm going to get a cut on my finger".

John pierced his lips. The waitress still hovered over him. "Look, that's really none of your business, now is it?" First it was his drunken lab coworkers, now it was nosy waitresses digging themselves into his personal life with Rose.

"Sorry." Nancy backed off," It's just I find that within the first year, I discover whether my boyfriend's a sociopath or a normal bloke… You're not a sociopath, are you?"

"I.. I don't think so. Listen, I've got to make a call. It's rather important so..."

"Well..." she bit her lips and smiled. The smile seemed less confident than before, "Good luck to you, mate. "If it doesn't work out at all... " She ripped a napkin from the the plastic napkin dispenser and scribbled her digits with the chewed up pencil." No 24 hour breakups. None of that rubbish… Clean breaks."

"I… don't think that will be necessary."

"..Call me… or Facebook me."

By this point the tea had gone lukewarm. The chips were still hot off the fryer and the fish was a little burnt to John's liking. He popped a vinegar soaked chip into his mouth. This was one diner he was crossing off his list. He pulled the flip phone out of his pinstriped jeans. From across the room, he could feel Nancy's green eyes partially hidden behind her book, observing him."Hello, Rose?"

"Hello, You've reached Rose Tyler's number. Sorry if I'm unable to reach the phone right now. I am unavailable at the moment so please leave your phone number and I will get back to you shortly." John slammed the phone after the beep. Either Rose was avoiding him, she was in a tricky predicament or she'd forgotten to charge her phone. Again. Out of the three possible options, only the last one seemed slightly better.

Lost in thought, John slowly realized he could hear a slight humming creeping into his mind. He glanced around. The hooded customer discreetly pulled out an aluminum flask while Nancy engrossed herself once again in the Agatha novel. Deep, maroon liquid poured into the white teacup. John raised his eyebrows, narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose. That wasn't wine. Nancy bit her lips as she flipped a page. The stranger drank his tea and continued to eat his raw steak and chips. Somewhere in the kitchen, Tony unnecessarily banged some pots and pans. The humming in John's head grew achingly similar and flickered. The TARDIS. The Doctor's TARDIS was somewhere nearby and where the TARDIS was, there was sure to be the Doctor.

The bastard. He'd actually made it back to Pete's Universe. John jumped up from the wobbly linoleum table and slapped enough cash to pay for the meal and ran out into the damp streets full of costumed drunks. Finally tonight was turning out to be promising.

**I think this story is just going to get crazier from here on out. Please continue giving any constructive criticisms on anything you find odd or out of character... It's greatly appreciated.**


End file.
